


BLUE CMBYN Erotica Series 6 - 7

by BLUEFICTION2



Category: Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Fetish, Food Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, POV Elio Perlman, POV Oliver (Call Me By Your Name), Power Exchange, Rope Bondage, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEFICTION2/pseuds/BLUEFICTION2
Summary: BLUE CMBYN Erotica series 6 - 7 Elio's Birthday arrives and all the presents of the day are exponentially more than a boy could hope for.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Kudos: 6





	1. 6 An Artful Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver indulges Elio, in more ways than one, in his pre-birthday present of an Artful Opening.

Erotica Series DATE NIGHT 6

DATE NIGHT 6.1 Art and a Show 03/12/18  
DATE NIGHT 6.2 Artful Opening 05/12/18

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■ 6.1 Art and a Show  
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■ Elio:  
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I meet Oliver at the University intending to go to my friend's art opening from there - but Oliver's still working even though the sign on his door states his office hours end at 8pm.

Oliver reaches into his files pulling out another set of student folders.

"We have to leave." I stand, arms crossed in his doorway.

"I'll just be a minute." He says.

"And another and another - "

"You want me to go to this thing or not? Because some of us have to work for a living."

That said - I'm ready to turn around and go without him.

But these things are no fun if he's not with me ridiculing what people wear, the things they say and the pieces of art they have displayed on the walls.

Or "pieces of shit" as he calls them.

"I'm not going without you." I say, wandering over to rub his shoulders.

Where he leans his head back, finally dropping the paperwork to enjoy the massage. "That feels so good."

"It can feel better."

"The door's open."

"I'll close it -- if you stop working now."

"This has to get done." He lifts the top file.

I may look like I was born yesterday but if living with Oliver has taught me one thing, it's to be more assertive in dealing with a potential workaholic.

I pull his chair away from the desk, turning it sideways. "You finish up. I'll just", I pause for effect, "entertain myself."

Rubbing my hand over his shirt; I head south to cup his cock through the fabric.

And feeling him grow - harden - I kneel between his legs; opening his fly; reaching in.

He hand clutches mine in an attempt to stop --

"Graham, "he says, "is there something you need?"

Peeking under his desk, I see two feet standing in the doorway. Only I really don't see this as an interruption but as more of a challenge.

I mean, it's just that gangly kid from his class needing some time with his professor and I'm not sure if Oliver realizes it, but I think we're dealing with a potential school boy crush – because, well, I should know.

Snaking through his open fly, my fingers trace him from root to tip, getting him hard.

Harder.

He's easily manipulated that way.

And I’m like him, whenever Oliver walks in the room and I'm hard as well. He talks to me on the phone. I'm hard.

I'm hard just thinking about getting hard.  
__

The kid in the doorway indicates he wants to come in, and my hand in Oliver's trousers, cupping his balls, transforms into an iron grip.

"I'm just leaving for the day." Oliver tells the kid, closing the folder, returning it to the pile.

"Come around before class tomorrow." He continues talking as the kid leaves.

"Wow. If only you would close up shop that easily for me." I tell him.

"My shop's never closed for you."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"You can, but we're late for your friend's show."

"Not so fast, we can be a little late."

"I hear it's fashionable."

"Stand up." I tell him.

"Only if you close the door."

Oliver is getting with the program. Good call.  
__

I close the door and Oliver drops his pants, grabbing the lube from his side drawer, right beside the Kleenex box and the cold medication.

"You stocked up." I tell him.

"Not getting caught high and dry again."

"Wow. You remembered."

"Somehow even an over abundance of weed doesn't cancel out the memory."

"Yeah, ouch.” I commiserate. “Bend over." But I’m on a schedule.

Oliver places his hands on the desk and I crouch behind, spreading him open before I lube my finger, pressing it deep -

Licking his sac, taking my time, opening my mouth to take him in as I add another finger, playing with him - getting him - almost to the point of ---

Then I stand up. "We're late."

"Speaking of high and dry. "

"Don't worry, I'm still going to fuck you. But I want to do it in public."

"Dirty boy." He laughs.

"I also want you waiting - wanting - your hole ready for my cock whenever I want. And I want to fuck you. I really do. And when that happens, I want people to know - to hear us - to maybe even see us."

"I want them to want to be me, taking you - making you hard - and ready to cum - to shoot your load. To make that noise you do that tells everyone that you are mine and I am yours and fuck the world and anyone in it who thinks this is wrong."

I gasp for breath, "Can you do that for me?"

I look up, waiting for him to answer, but Oliver's eyes have glazed over and he's having trouble forming words.  
__  
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A half hour after we arrive, we're still stuck mingling at the opening. But I have a plan.

"Come with me." I grab his hand, leading him out the fire door, thankful no alarms sound as we leave.

We're at street level with only an iron gate to separate us from the world.

Oliver chuckles when I reach around to undo his pants.

"Hold on." I tell him when he grabs onto the bars of the grate.

I unzip my fly, sliding into him in one smooth stroke, pushing up and in, going balls deep as we watch the night life passing by on the other side of the fence.

I hook my fingers through the grate alongside his, pressing him closer to the busy street.

Pushing his cock into the cold metal.

Knowing we're visible from the outside -- if one was to look.

And I'm fucking - seriously ramming my cock as fast and as deep -

Taking him - fucking taking me -

Fucking, fucking.

Oh God - fucking -

And

I'm

Fucking

T.H.E.R.E.  
__

I pull out; my cum leaking out of his asshole; splattering onto the ground.

And then, turning him around, I kneel before his still hard cock.

Licking him.

Sucking him.

Before.

Taking him all the way in.

Swallowing him down.

His hands grip my head to fuck my mouth - and I open for him; taking everything - giving him everything.

And when he comes - his groans echo loudly in our confined space; his body trembling with suppressed conductivity as his cum erupts to shoot down my throat.

The street sounds muffle his cries so no one is the wiser.

But we were there.

We've left our mark.

We've left something to show.

__  
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■ 6.2 An Artful Opening  
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■ Oliver:  
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We get back from some shitty art opening Elio's dragged me to, and I've come to the conclusion I'm going to have to check these out beforehand - but it was for a friend - so -

I'm in the shower and he's fucking around with something under the bathroom counter, pulling out a handful of grooming products. As if he really needs them.

"Come in here."

He leaves the stuff on the counter, entering the stall with a tired but happy smile on his face - content to play along.

"Give me your hand."

He does as he's told

"Now close your eyes. Keep them closed."

I smell his scent - taking it all in as I run my nose from just under his wrist to the crook of his arm, stopping to lick the tender flesh - bite it with gentle little nips.

I raise his arm to sniff his exposed armpit -

Pushing his arm higher.

Taking in his pungency.

Holding it there.

It's a heady feeling.

And I push my face into him - inhaling the stench of his day - biting the hairs - pulling them with my teeth.

I alternate between licking and pulling the hair and Elio is squirming when he should be still.

"Hold on." I tell him, leaving the shower to retrieve his grooming shit.

And returning to find him half asleep. Dozing when he shouldn't be.

"Elio. Elio? Are you in there?"

He nods.

"Good."

I take the shower head, turning on the spray so it's warm enough not to shock.

Getting him wet.

And it's hard to concentrate when all I want to do is fuck him right now.

With the water turned low, I grab the aerosol can, spraying foam into my hand, pressing that hand to his chest - rubbing in circles.

His eyes are closed.

He's almost catatonic.

Taking his new razor, I begin shaving his chest.

Although he's almost bare, I want him clean and smooth.

As a baby's ass.

I spray again running my hand lower to his happy trail. I'll be sad to see it go -

Then even lower to his pubes.

His balls.

Slathering the foam before carefully shaving it all away.

Rinsing him off, I turn him around, where he leans with both hands pressed firmly against the tiled wall.

And there it is.

I press my lips to that wrinkled rose, and it blooms as I dart my tongue to flick and lick.

It pulses in an invitation I can't resist.

My tongue lapping.

Lapping.

Wetting him - preparing him.  
__

And I wiggle the tip of my tongue as that - oh so elastic ring - slowly gives way to the breadth of me.

And I'm in.

My tongue is fucking at his hole.

Shallow little thrusts that have him moaning loudly.

Moving his ass in time with the manipulations of my tongue.

My lips pressed tightly around

Sucking

Drawing him back to me.

His cock at full attention, bobbing with the movements he making all on his own.

And I hold him still.  
__

I know he badly wants to stroke himself but his hands stay flat against the wall.

And his cock is hard - his hips pushing his hole back onto my tongue.

Fucking me, as I take him

HOME.

With my mouth.

My tongue.

And when he's ready and slick with spit - I take pity on him - standing up to grab his cock in one hand as the other plays around his asshole.  
__

He's thrusting into my hand when I shove two long fingers into him.

Entering.

Invading.

Infiltrating.

Fucking in quick jabs and wide circles.

Scissoring them open.

Before hooking them deep.

Lifting him up.

Getting him on his toes.

So finally

Finally.

Fucking finally.

He's there.  
__

And as his cum hits the shower wall he yells out in huge gasping cries.

His hips moving.

Lunging.

His cock still fucking my hand.

His asshole clenching tight to my fingers.

And he turns his head kissing me as his ass continues to kiss my fingertips.

Kissing them with lips that tighten and soften at the same time.

And my boy is done.

He's tired and pliant and content .. and spent beyond any reason.

And probably done for the night.

"Come on," I say. "Let's tuck you in."  
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■ Fin - 6.2 Artful Opening  
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	2. BLUE CMBYN Erotica Series 7 Birthday Boi Parts 1 - 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Birthday Boi Part 1: Elio comes across some sex toys found in the bottom of Oliver's duffle. Particularly interesting, is a thick silicone glove with texturing, sure we'll call it that, around each fingertip.
> 
> Birthday Boi Part 2: has Oliver educating Elio that not all toys come from a sex shop, and that homemade toys can be just as much fun.
> 
> Birthday Boi Part 3: (nothing left but the release and the clean up) is where Elio comes into his own and becomes a man, or master, if you want to be exact.

Erotica Series DATE NIGHT 7

Birthday Boi 7.1 - 7.3  
(takes place the next morning after 6.2 Artful Opening)

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■ 7.1 Birthday Boi Part 1  
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■ Elio:  
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I look down at myself in the early morning light and notice one thing.

"I'm fucking huge."

But Oliver's out cold; lying on his stomach, one leg bent, the other stretched out diagonally; taking up more than half of the bed.

I crawl up over him, pressing flat against his back; rubbing my cock into the crease of his buttocks. It feels different than before; moving against him; skin against skin.

Oliver groans into the pillow.

"Good morning." I try to be chipper, because, well -

"Morning?" He turns his head sideways.

"Sun's up."

"It’s not the only thing."

"I'm young."

"And hung." He noticed.

"Awww. That's sweet." I purr.

And now that Oliver is capable of making conversation, he's probably aware of what day it is.

"Aren't you supposed to be up before me making me breakfast in bed?"

"Elio it's 6 a - " He begins.

"Don't talk, just lie there." I admonish.

But Oliver's become very quiet and I realize he's again sleeping.

"Or go back to sleep. That's good too."  
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"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"It's not fucking nothing."

Oliver has rolled over in his sleep, so when he wakes up there are two sets of hand cuffs piled on his stomach.

"You're not going to cuff my wrists to the bed frame." He jokes, but not.

"No, not that." I wait a beat. "I'm going to cuff your ankles."  
__

"Roll back over."

I lower my voice, trying to sound menacing where Oliver gives me a resigned look before turning onto his stomach.

Take hold of his left leg, I position it so it's almost touching the bedpost before snapping one end of the cuff to his ankle and the other to the sturdy iron bed frame.

Thank God his body is so long, because his right foot easily stretches over the other side of the bed as I attach the second set of cuffs to his ankle and post.

"Reach up and grab the edge of the headboard. Now hold on and don't let go."

I walk around the bed to open the duffel; yes that duffel. "I am trusting you to keep your hands there." I remind him.

Oliver turns his head to watch me and the look he gives me speaks volumes. It says so many things that I have to kiss him, telling him I understand; I get it.  
__

"Someone's been snooping." He grumbles.

"Not snooping, looking."

"There's a difference?"

"When it's my birthday, there is."

I indicate the large duffel I've hauled from the back of the closet in the den.

"In what universe do you keep your leather shit under your old track suits in your duffle?"

Oliver starts to answer but the variety of items I'm pulling out of the bag shuts him up. I place two beside him, taking the packaging off the first thing I intend to try.

"I'm only using the shit that's new." I tell him.

"It's all clean." Oliver states quietly.

"Still, I'm not fucking touching anything that's been *used*." I mean, fuck no, I’m not even going there with that.  
__

Removing a black glove from its box, I set it down to pick up the crop, just like the one at the leather place, intending to test it out on his ass.

But instead of actually hitting him, I hold it by the business end, bending it so that when I let go it snaps back into place with a thwack.

I do this many times, covering one cheek and then the other in bright red stamps of the heavier metal end of the crop.

But Oliver says nothing; letting me experiment on my own.

I bend over to kiss each stamp, each mark. And finding the pink spots still warm, I lick the flesh and soon his entire ass is covered with my saliva. I stand back, and holding the crop by the heavier end, I strike down hitting him with a slash across both buttocks at once.

His body jerks on the bed and I know I've got his attention. I try it again, a bit harder this time, hoping to get him as hot as he gets me when he uses the belt.

I hit him four more times and dark red slash marks show up on his ass.

Oliver hasn't made a sound; but being abnormally quiet means something too. I check on him, but the only sign of distress are the bite marks his teeth have made on his lower lip.

I admire his ass again, seeing for the first time what he sees on me so I crawl onto the bed, kissing each stamp, each welt; running my tongue along the heated marks and as I reach the top of his buttocks, I run my tongue down the crease to lap at his asshole.

Oliver shifts on the bed as my hands push him further apart, opening him wider as my tongue wiggles and pokes; pulling back a bit to let saliva drizzle down onto - into -

My finger scooping, spreading, opening, entering and widening; adding another to spread him further. Then putting on the silicone glove, I use a single digit, one tiny little finger, to press inside.

I plunge and rotate fucking his hole with the smallest, most forgiving, end but I know he likes it when he starts humping the bed.

I try another finger; the ring finger with its corkscrew indents, spitting more slime into his hole to help it slide in.

Then the middle finger that's wider, thicker than the rest. And another; each one different, but no less pleasurable judging by the way his cock is trying to fuck the bedding.

Finally, after extended exploration, sure we’ll call it that, I pull out the rubber thumb I’d been using, moving my hand back to slap him hard on the ass and the noise is so shockingly loud I have no other option but to do it again.

It leaves an entire hand print; decorating an already decorated cheek.  
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I'm enjoying this immensely and I hope he is too. Birthdays are fun!  
__

I get up to take the last remaining item out of the box.

"That's going to need lube." He tells me. It's almost a jolt to hear him speak.

"How come they're so small?" I ask; although they look stimulating just the same.

"They're unisex."

Oh.

I look around, and getting inspired, I put them near his mouth; the thin string of silicone balls swinging into his vision like a mesmerizing pendulum.

I don't need to say open wide when he's already opening up and I rub one smooth orb over his lips before carefully settling the first few balls inside.

He gets them as wet as possible. Slippery. Slimy.

And as I take them, setting the first small bead into his asshole, I make an observation.

"They don't look like they'll do much."

"They can, under the right circumstances."

Okaaay.

"You, a person, can fuck someone, a woman, with the beads inside or alongside the beads if that's what they want."

I take a deep breath before asking the big question.

"Do you want?" I ask quietly.

Oliver doesn't answer but I see him nod as I lube up the rest of the beads to slide inside his body.  
__

Wedging my cock along side, I find it a very tight fit; my body lying on top, covering his. And I start moving; my fingers reaching up to him; hands searching, clasping his as I use my hips to thrust deeper. And finding purchase, I move.

And we ride; me on him; him on the bedding.

Fucking. Humping.

Both covered in sweat, I slide over him. Into him.

And the sensations are unbelievable.

Reaching. Reaching. Reaching.

Until --

"Holy fuck!"

"Son-of-a-bitch!"

And we're there.......   
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"How come they were still in the packaging?" I get chatty, and a little bit curious, over breakfast and juice.

"I didn't have a chance to use them."

"On men?"

"Unisex, remember?"

"Oliver, you're one kinky mother-fucker."

"I've never fucked my mother, or have ever wanted to." Oliver shivers. "But kinky? Sure I'll take that."

"Really?" My voice rises a notch.

"Variety is the spice of life."

"Well here's to a spicy life." I raise my glass of orange juice to him.  
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■ 7.2 Birthday Boi Part 2  
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■ Elio:  
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Oliver has treated me to a wonderful dinner to celebrate my birthday. And after a quiet evening, with him working in his office, he takes my hand, leading me into the bedroom where he's created the most romantic atmosphere with satin sheets, tons of candles and even fucking rose petals on the bed. Yep, rose petals.  
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"Lie down." He tells me.

But when I do, he positions my head about a third of the way down so I have to lie on my back with my knees bent.

He throws the pillows off the bed then leans over to kiss my face, my lips, my forehead; putting his fingertips to my eyelids to gently press them closed before slipping a sleep mask over my head, covering my eyes.

He’s gone for a long time when I hear him return; quietly moving around the room before I feel him take up my hand; pressing kisses to the inside of my elbow.

And pulling my arm out towards the edge of the bed, he winds what I think is a light rope around one wrist. Then doing the same to the second, he secures them both at right angles from my body, and I have to wonder just what he's got planned.

Then Oliver does something totally unexpected by bending my legs at the knees to lie back on either side of my chest and wrapping more rope under and around my knee, and tying the second one in the same fashion, he pulls my legs even more apart and up and back, forcing me to roll up onto my upper back and shoulders as he secures the ropes to the head of the bed.

I'm lying there completely at his mercy (feeling a bit like a baby about to be diapered), but not in any way afraid because I trust him with my life.

Until he removes my mask.  
__

And there he is, standing there wearing the leather harness I've heard so much about.

"Now let's talk about this morning." He starts off, pausing, where I lick my suddenly dry lips as I wait for him to continue.

"You think just because you've found the duffel and played with its contents that you're an expert now? That you've somehow bested me?"

He sounds so stern.

"Well I'm going to show you that first: you don't fuck with a master, and second that you don't need any of that shit to play."

He crawls onto the end of the bed, kneeling to settle his lips over my cock, suckling me before moving to my sac to lick and mouth my balls.

He sits back to show me the long thin piece of leather in his hand; letting it dangle to brush against my stomach then running it downward to tickle my cock and balls.

He has the most menacing smile on his face.

I smile back at him to show I'm enjoying what he's doing.

"If I wanted to," he says, "I'd wet this strip leather first, and as it dries it shrinks and tightens in the most unpleasant way. Then you'd be in real hell and really not enjoying this so much."

He winds the leather around my balls, tying it off so they become tight and swollen and oh so sensitive.

Then he kisses the taught flesh; licking me; wetting me as he moves to my exposed hole. I begin to throb in anticipation as he lets the saliva from his mouth drizzle down, down.

Oliver gets up off the bed, and standing near my head, he puts his thumb into my mouth.

"Suck." He says.

I'm already drawing it in; not really meaning to let it go until it's good and wet, where he pulls it out with a decided, pop.

Oliver stands to loom over me, and now, pressing it inward, my hole greedily sucks it in. And he firmly grips my captured sac in his other hand as he stabs his thumb into me; tugging my sac up and away from my body in a pointed torture that I soon find is just a preliminary phase to what is yet to come.  
__

My cock has become rock hard, my balls throbbing in sweet agony, as I watch him gather up even more items to set them near my head.

I taste myself as Oliver runs his wet thumb over my mouth, pressing on the lower lip to gain entry, before sliding inside to draw on my tongue.

Oh no! Oh God no!

I know where he's going with this and I become afraid - very afraid.  
__

He pulls my tongue outward, and with his other hand, he squeezes his fingers to depress the end of the wooden clothes pin. I know it will hurt and tense in anticipation of the pinch as he adds two more.

Which is nothing compared to the intense pain I experience when he does my nipples.

I can't move. I'm in complete agony; not knowing where else he'll take me.

But I don't want him to stop.

Oliver attaches several more of the wooden pins on the backs of my thighs, but somehow he's avoided any further torture of my cock and balls.  
__

"Now for the icing on the cake - or rather the candle on top." His voice is filled with an ominous glee.

HOLY FUCK!

I didn't see that coming!  
__

I don't know if I'm in agony or ecstasy. And the intense sensations are beyond anything I can comprehend.

Oliver drizzles hot wax from the liquefied votive over my chest, my captured nipples, onto my stomach as he alternates between taking my cock in his mouth, sucking, swirling then returning to drip even more burning drops of hot wax.

And each time it feels like a wonderful birthday present and a diabolical gift from hell’s basement combined.

I'm lying there; my tongue flapping out of my mouth; drool running out the sides to slide down my cheeks and chin; every part of my body experiencing different but no less intense sensations that are amplified by the imaginings of what he'll do next.

When he finally stops with the wax to remove the pins from my tongue, he takes my mouth with his, latching on to that poor tortured morsel as he slides on top of me, pushing his cock into my wet asshole as he sucks passionately on my tongue.

And he's fucking the way I always imagined they do in those kinds of videos. You know what kind.  
__

Hard

And

Fast

And

Deep

And

Without mercy.  
__

And when he comes, he pulls out to spatter my stomach in another kind of burning hot brand.

I feel like I'm falling off a cliff - never to reach the ground.  
__

My nipples have become numb from the pinch of the clothes pins, but the one’s on my thighs feel like daggers stabbing into my flesh as Oliver leans up to remove himself from my body.

And there's nothing left but release and the clean up.  
__

I cry out as the real torment of the clothes pins comes after they are removed.

"I'm sorry baby, there's no way around it." Oliver apologies when I curl up into a ball, trying to shake off the intense sensations, tears running down my face.

Oliver uses ice and a pen-knife to remove the hardened wax from my flesh, the leather from my balls. And I'm forever grateful he shaved me bare last night.  
__

Gathering me in his arms; his harness biting into my throbbing chest, he tenderly kisses my tears.

Humming softly, he starts to sing ‘Happy, Happy Birthday Baby’.  
__

"Did you get your wish? Did you like it?" He asks.

"More than anything." I answer truthfully.

"But maybe not,” I pause to take a breath, “so much ever again, for awhile anyways."  
__  
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■ 7.3 Birthday Boi Part 3 finale   
(nothing left but release and the clean up.)  
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■ Oliver:  
__

Elio sits up on the bed, finally free of the leather binding; able to get up, walk around, but still not too steady on his feet.

But at least he's not cradling his balls anymore.

"Okay, explain to me what the fuck you meant about wetting the leather?" He sounds mad.

"You must be feeling better if you're up for the Q&A portion of the night."

"Ha! You're funny." He says, in a not so fun-filled voice.

"You weren't laughing either when you were trussed up like a turkey getting wax dripped on your tits." I remind him.

Elio takes a half hearted swat at my leg but stops to run his hand upward pushing me forward to lean against the dresser.

He slides up behind me, one hand gripping onto my neck, the other reaching between my legs -- brushing - holding - gripping my sac. Damn.

"Don't start something you can't finish." I warn him.

Fuck! His grip is tight.

"The wet leather?" He prompts.

"It shrinks, okay. Then it gets very uncomfortable, and if you leave it on long enough - "

"What?"

"It's not pretty and I don't think you want to know. Let's just say we'd never go that far."

"Again, how the fuck do you know this?"

I'm not going to answer that.

"Easy cowboy!" I gasp as Elio inserts a finger in my ass. And it's dry and tight and not quite pleasurable.

"Why didn't you drip wax on my cock and balls - into my asshole?"

"You wanted me to?" I ask. But I'm starting to wonder where this is going.

And FUCK his finger is persistent. Well not just his finger, it seems the evil little shit on the other end of that digit is planning something.

"I'm not sure if I would have liked that." He says.

What was the question again? Oh yeah - that.

"Well there you go, crisis averted."

Elio grabs my hip, pulling me further away from the dresser, his finger tapping at my prostate.

"I didn't get to blow out my candle." He states.

Oh, he wants to blow me? I'm good with that.

"You mean you want another wish?" I ask. Greedy boy.

"Sure if you want to think of it that way."

He pushes my legs further apart so I'm bent completely over and expecting he wants another birthday fuck. And if that's what he wants, well that's a win-win.

"Don't move."

Elio leaves the room and its several minutes before he returns.

"Okay, I'm back." He states.

"I can see you."

"Right." He seems a little bit flustered as he sets something on the bed.

Elio then lights the candles on the dresser, and I have to admit I am getting worried.

"What are you doing?"

"Mood lighting." He informs me, turning off the overheads.

Then I feel something cool on my ass as I turn to see Elio smearing the whipped topping from his black forest birthday cake over my ass and into my asshole.

Then taking one of the cherries from the cake, he sets it on, then slightly into my hole.

"Mmmmm." He murmurs.

Crouching over to lick at the topping, he swirls his tongue over my cheeks - Into my crack - up and down each crevice, nook and cra -

"Aaaahhhhhh." Was that me? I guess so.

"Mmmm," he's not so talkative when he's eating.

Then he's there. He's fucking - there.

His tongue burns hot against my hole; pushing, playing with, and finally eating the cherry - before tunneling all the way inside.

And I'm hard and pumping back against his tongue as his mouth moves to my balls.

And it's fucking - ahhhh - too much.

And -

He grips, then none too gently twists my sac and I'm, "Owwww."

"Quiet!" He snaps.

I love it when he's dominant.

Then I feel it - I fucking feel it. He's got one of the tapers and he's pushing it into me; one hand on my back holding me down, the other shoving it further up and into my asshole.

Deep. Oh so fucking deep. Sawing it in and out - and not being so fucking gentle.

And it's in me.

He's just doing short jabs; moving it around like I'm a fucking candle holder.

And I’m like, NO. FUCKING. NO.

He leaves me there to grab the lighter and pulling me away from the dresser he -

BENDS ME IN HALF.

HANDS ON THE FLOOR.

Thank fucking God I'm limber!

THEN HE LIGHTS THE WICK.

And steps away to admire his handiwork.

"Sing."

WTF !!!

"Sing Happy Birthday to me."

And as I sing the old standard, "Happy, Happy Birthday Baby."

Elio puts his hands on my hips to blow out his candle.  
__

_Happy, happy birthday baby, thought I'd sing this song to you_  
_Cause we're in love in every way, so I wish this happy day,_  
_Would find me beside you_

_Happy, happy birthday baby, and I still call you my baby,_  
_From the first time that we met, and I saw you on the set,_  
_Cause that's where we fell in love_

_Do you remember the names we had for each other_  
_I called you by my name, and then you did the same_  
_So how could we say goodbye_

_Hope you had the very best birthday, though I'm married to a lady,_  
_But I still feel close to you, and I hope that you do too_  
_Happy, happy birthday baby !!! **_  
__

I move to stand up. But he's not done.

"I'm not finished." He says.

I knew that.

Then he's beside me; his fingers in the cake itself, scooping, rubbing the moist chocolate all over his dick - then over and into my hole.

And I know just where he's going with this.

"The candle?"

"Leave it." He says.

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.

He steps up behind me playing with the candle, pressing it to one side, and he's there - slowly shoving his cock inside me - beside the taper.

And he puts one hand on my hip, one hand on the candle and -

He's moving.

HOLY FUCK HE'S TALENTED.

Pushing his cock deeper while pulling out the candle, then withdrawing while shoving it back in.

Double pistoning my asshole.

Then both at once. Oh FUCK. He's deep, so deep.

Spreading me wide.

And

I'm

Fucking

There ..........

And

He's

Fucking

There ..........  
__

He pulls the taper from my asshole, letting me stand up, where we quickly spin around; tipping Tim backward so he flops on the bed.

And standing beside the bed, I grab his legs to pull them up and over my shoulders, lifting him so high, he's resting on his upper back. And when I bend down, my mouth is on his dick licking, sucking, tasting myself, and Tim and chocolate cake.

_____  
_____

■ FIN - Birthday Boi Series - 1986  
■ FIN Early Erotica Series 1 - 7  
_____

I purposely did not use Elio's name after Oliver sings his own version of the song. ** Original song: Happy, Happy Birthday Baby - Lopez / Sylvia  
_____


End file.
